


y'all'd've garden

by rosewounds



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Crack, M/M, Olive Garden AU, Please tell me if y'all like it, Romantic Comedy, Total fucking bullshit holy fuck this made me cringe so hard to write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 20:41:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10521450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewounds/pseuds/rosewounds
Summary: “Hi, my name’s Yuuri and I'll be your server tonight.”Victor has found that being gay is pretty hard on its own. It’s even worse when your waiter is this fucking gorgeous of a boy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Incredibly Americanized Yuuri on Ice cast. This is total bullshit that I just made up after torturing those that love and care about me by eating at Olive Garden. May be continued, if it gets a positive enough response, or much of a response at all? Please comment.
> 
> Also, credit to Kelli and her amazing brain for the title. And Sam for giving me this idea and enabling me. I'm blessed.

“Hi, my name’s Yuuri and I'll be your server tonight.”

 

Victor has found that being gay is pretty hard on its own. It’s even worse when your waiter is this fucking gorgeous of a boy. He’s tan and has all this fluffy black hair. The sleeves of his black dress shirt are rolled up, and Victor finds himself staring far too long than anyone should be looking at someone's forearms. The waiter shoots him a questioning look as he adjusts the blue frames of his squared off glasses. “Sir? Right this way, please.”

 

Right. He has to pretend to be somewhat of a human being. But oh. Oh God. When this guy-- Yuuri, as it seems-- turns around to lead Victor to his table, his ass… it’s fucking magnificent. Victor never thought black American Eagle chinos could look this good on anyone. His ass is so round, so plump, there's such a distinct curve from his waist to hip--  _ yeah, pop a boner in the middle of Olive Garden, good fucking job, Victor _ .

Words. Words are needed right now. Thank God Chris is there to supply them. As Victor’s best friend, he is very aware of the state of torture Victor has been thrust into, and takes the lead. “Thank you,” he supplies. “My friend and I would like the wine list, please.” Victor is eternally grateful for Chris’ advocation of liquid courage.

 

Once Yuuri-- alert, chirpy, and helpful-- helps them sort out which fancy sounding, overpriced alcohol they'd like to buy and scoots off, Chris shoots Victor a look from across the table. “Are you having a fucking stroke?” 

Victor nods pitifully. “He’s beautiful. Look at him. Holy shit. I might actually die.” Chris raises one eyebrow, used to Victor’s tendencies to become overly dramatic.

“Fix your collar, you freak. Deep breaths. He's good looking, but so are you. Get it together. You like him that much?” Another nod is supplied. Victor seems to be rendered speechless by even being in the same building as this boy. “Fine then. I’m gonna promise you something-- his ass will be yours by the end of tonight.”

 

Victor’s never found it particularly hard to catch a man. Finding someone willing to fuck at a gay bar is easy- that's what they're there for. But someone servicing you because it's part of their  _ job _ , while their entire personal life is shrouded in mystery, is a different story entirely. He’s a ticking timebomb right now. He’s got about an hour before this gorgeous boy disappears from his life forever, unless he wants to hang out at Olive Garden every day like a gremlin, eating subpar Italian faire. Letting Chris take the reins is probably the easiest way out of this situation, if not the most painfully obvious way. “Okay, okay. If you think you can, then do it. Just don't embarrass me too badly.”

“Darling, I would never,” Chris purrs at him, his grin wide and dangerous. “Now what ethnicity do you think he is?”

“I wish you would die sometimes.”

  
  


Once Yuuri returns with their drinks of choice and has his notepad poised for taking their orders, Chris springs on him. “I’d like the shrimp alfredo, but my friend here wants to know if he could find your name under 'beef’.” Yuuri turns pink all the way to his ears as he looks from Chris to Victor and back again. Victor stares in horror as what he thinks might result in them being banned from Olive Garden, but instead the waiter actually giggles, a hand over his mouth. “I’d tell him to look under chicken. I haven't got an ounce of muscle on me.”

Is Chris a sex fairy? Is he Eros? Did he shoot Yuuri with an arrow to get him to not be creeped out and run away screaming or call him a gay slur? Victor puts his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. “I’m so sorry about him. Feel free to spit in his food.” Victor tries to make himself seem like less of a gawking weirdo, to better his image in comparison to Chris.

“He’d probably want a bite of it if you did.”

Victor stomps on Chris’ foot under the table as Yuuri scurries off, laughing under his breath. “He's probably gonna fall for you instead of me now.” Victor mourns. 

“I’ll let him know that your dick is bigger, don’t worry.”

“No you will not! He’ll think we’re fucking!”

Chris smirks and raises his wine glass. “Victor, you silly slut. We have fucked, and your dick  _ is  _ bigger than mine. A toast to Russian cock, please.” 

Victor can’t deny any of it. Their wine glasses clink together.

 

When Yuuri returns, his hair is pushed back a bit, his shirt undone at the collar. He presents them with their dishes and leans over Victor with the cheese shredding contraption, smirking down at him. “Tell me when.”

Victor gets too distracted watching the muscles in Yuuri’s forearms work, trying to catch a glimpse down his collar to see his chest, getting caught in the proximity of how close he is, sniffing in an attempt to pick up his scent. He ends up with a mountain of cheese on his plate. “Oh, umm… that's enough. Thank you.” Yuuri smirks down at him, plump cheeks making way for the indentations of his dimples, and Victor finds himself swooning. Chris is making obscene gestures with the breadsticks out of the corner of his eye, and Yuuri is laughing. Victor decides it’s time to man up and Mark His Territory. “So, besides being adorable, what do you do in your spare time?” Nice one, Vic.

Another flush colors Yuuri’s face, the pink offsetting the blue of his glasses. God, he’s adorable. “Um… I mostly just play video games and help out at my parent's inn. I’m just working here to pay off schooling.”

“Video games? Do you play Overwatch?” Victor asks. Truthfully, he has no knowledge whatsoever on video games, but it's a title he’s heard a lot and is pretty sure it’s hip with the kids.

“Every now and then. It's pretty fun. Do your kids play it?”

Victor looks up at him in shock, eyes wide. He can hear Chris  _ laughing _ across the table. “I don't have kids. I'm 27. M-my hair, it's a genetic-- I'm not an old pervert. That's Chris, not me.”

“Oh God, please forget I said anything. I thought you looked way too good to be in your 40s. I'm 23. And an idiot. Let me take your plates for you.” Yuuri babbles, reaching over to get Chris’ mostly empty bowl of soup, with nothing left but the broth. In that shaking, flustered moment, he manages to spill most of it on Victor’s khakis.

“I really couldn't have planned this better if I tried.” Chris says cheerfully, watching Yuuri push cloth napkins into Victor’s lap while the latter is shifting in his seat, biting down on his bottom lip, looking like he's trying to keep his eyes from rolling back. “Do you think he could get your number as an apology for you soiling his pants? He's Seattle’s most eligible bachelor. He’s incredibly lonely. He goes to a dry cleaners. He owns a poodle.”

 

By the time Victor can finally escape the romcom hell that stepping into Olive Garden traps him in, he's wearing wet khakis, dragging an entirely too smug blond man behind him, and has a receipt with a phone number and a smiley face scratched in pen on the back.

 

_ I love poodles! You should let me meet him sometime. Actually, I'm really lonely too, I don't care about your dog, just call me. Please. _

_ -Yuuri Katsuki _


End file.
